


Don't Go Blindly Into the Dark

by TheHouseNymph



Category: Chasing a Legacy
Genre: Angst, Canon Non-Binary Character, Canon Trans Character, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Gun Violence, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Character Death, So much angst, Trans Pregnancy, Vomiting, Zombie Apocalypse, and a complaint list, and eunie is here too, francois lives bitch!, mint tea propaganda, the zombie apocalypse belongs to the gays now, this is a love letter to canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27012196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHouseNymph/pseuds/TheHouseNymph
Summary: The once beautiful city of Paris has fallen into ruin. After a deadly outbreak of a virus that hijacks its victims' bodies to spread it further, the few people left in the city must do what they can to survive both the presence of the deadly afflicted and each other.
Relationships: Camille Enjolras/Fabien de la Fosse, Jeanne-Marie Pontmercy/Theo Bernard, Marianne Enjolras/Elodie Auclair
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, and welcome to the Zombie Apocalypse AU that literally no one asked for.  
> Real talk, though, this is the first fic I've published and it's been sitting on my computer for months unfinished until I figured out where to go with it, so I'm kinda nervous about posting it. Also, yeah, I realize with the way the world is right now, some people really aren't looking for this kinda thing. I just hope that everyone that reads it likes it. Enjoy!

He studied his breath, target locked in the scope. He pulled the trigger.

_Crack!_

Another afflicted shot. He looked over to the horizon, to another setting sun. He had passed the day, and survived, almost.

Fabien took his rifle and turned on the safety before taking it by the strap and throwing it around his shoulder. He wouldn't need it on the way back, it was far too large to use on the go, and he was almost out of ammo for it anyways. Then, he took out the gun from his holster, checked to make sure it was still working and started towards the stairs of the apartment he was staking-out in.

He took his time leaving the building, looking in draws and cabinets for supplies he missed at first glance. There were a couple of cans of food, some kids-sized clothing, but not enough to call a supply run. That wasn’t what he was out for, so these were just a bonus. At one point he even came across a set of pajamas meant for a newborn, but he put it aside. He couldn’t keep lying to himself forever. It wasn't going to happen.

The minute he stepped outside, he immediately took cover. It wasn’t likely that he would run into any more afflicted here, but it was better to be safe than sorry, especially when cutting through this part of the city.

The city of Paris had once been beautiful, Fabien had been told. With winding streets, beautiful architecture around almost every corner, and a river dividing it all.

That was mostly gone now. The Eiffel Tower was far too unstable to go inside of, most of the artwork in all the museums had been stolen for barter or sale, and even Notre Dame’s famous stained-glass had been smashed to pieces.

He crouched around an old building, and he ducked into an old Métro station. He didn't have time to admire the little sculptural work that remained on the entrance. The watch on his wrist said the time was 6:24, at this rate he would be able to make it back well before nightfall.

Fabien turned on the flashlight attached to the shoulder strap of his bag and jumped down onto the tracks. So far, the Métro tunnels proved to be the best way to make it across the city quickly. Not many afflicted could get around the gates and elaborate barriers put up around the entrances. Even if a few did make it through all that, they weren’t very smart and would often lose each other going through the elaborate passages. One or two wasn’t much of a threat to someone with as good an aim as his.

Luckily, that night the tunnels were completely empty. The labyrinths were so large and expansive that it was nearly impossible to run into anyone down there with so few people left in Paris.

He made his way easily through the tunnels. He had most likely been down almost everyone if he had to guess. He couldn’t imagine many more if he was being honest with himself, but that wasn’t something he was particularly good at as of late.

When he finally emerged from the Métro, the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in a brilliant smudge of colors that reminded Fabien of something Camille might have made. He took a moment to look at it, untainted beauty was hard to come by, but it was shattered by the not-so-distant sounds of screaming and gunshots.

Turf wars existed all over the city between many different groups aiming to “unify the city” with promises of peace. No one he knew ever bought into it, but he had never been without a group of his own either. They were different, he reminded himself, they weren’t looking to gain territory. All they were doing was just trying to survive.

Fabien pressed on, checking if the street was clear before slipping into a building attached to the house. There was a broken wall hidden behind a bookshelf that served as the door since the building’s real entrance had been blocked years ago.

The house itself wasn't always a house, it used to be an old hotel, with an open-air atrium and more than enough rooms for everyone. The building was 6 stories tall, but the stairs no longer reached the top floor. A ladder was put in to get access to the roof as well. If it weren’t for the broken staircase, the place would have looked untouched by the outside world.

“I’m back,” he announced as he walked into what now served as the house’s main living area.

“Camille’s in the kitchen,” Madeleine said without looking up from what she was doing.

“Thanks,” he said, making his way through the dining room into the kitchen.

Camille was right where Madeline said he was, placing scrap pieces of wood into the makeshift fireplace.

“Hey.”

“Hey!” Camille said, already coming across the room to meet him. “I missed you.”

“You always miss me.” Fabien wrapped his arms around him.

“Well, you’re always gone,” Camille spoke softly into his ear before kissing his temple lightly.

“Would you rather have afflicted running around the city?”

“Hmm… I'd have to think about it.” Camille was pulled down into a kiss by Fabien.

“No you wouldn't,” he said before kissing him again. “You'd choose being afflicted-free any day.”

“You know me too well, but I would have to think about it a little.” Camille brought his hand up to Fabien's face.

“Camille! Guess what me and Él-- Oh! I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” Marianne marched into the room, not sounding the least bit sorry for intruding.

Fabien slipped hastily from Camille’s arms.

“Marianne!” Camille pouted, “You and Élodie get to spend all day together. Can’t I have one moment alone with Fabien?”

“Learn not to need to be alone to be together and I won’t have a choice. Besides, I got the supplies you needed. Here.” Marianne thrust a beat-up canvas bag in Camille’s general direction, and he took it, already looking through the bag, to make sure everything was there.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Me, Sabrine and Sylvie will be in my room if you need me,” Marianne said, leaving the kitchen just as fast as she had entered it.

Fabien turned his attention back to Camille. “That remains me, I got some supplies for you while I was out.” He dug around in his bag for a minute, pulling out a few cans of various vegetables and a tin of tea.

“What’s this?” Camille asked, picking up the tin.

“Tea.”

“Yeah, I know, but it’s mint tea.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that you ran out, so I got you some more.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Fabien started rummaging in his bag again. “Have you seen Jeanne anywhere?” he asked, changing the subject. “I picked up some kids’ clothes for her, too.”

“She's up on the roof with the plants. Just leave them in her room, she'll know what to do with them.”

“Okay, I'll go drop them off now.” Fabien started to turn to leave, but Camille pulled him into one last embrace.

“Don’t leave just yet. I haven't seen you since this morning.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

They stood there together, hardly moving before Fabien curled further into his arms.

“What if it never happens?” he said quietly into Camille’s chest.

“We’ll figure something else out.” he tightened his arms around him. “But I don’t think we’ll need to do that, not yet.”

“You can’t be sure of that.”

“I know… but I am.” Camille placed a kiss on his head and let him go.

Fabien did his best to compose himself. “See you at dinner,” he whispered.

“See ya,” Camille whispered back, and then Fabien was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance...

Marianne and Élodie left at sunrise as planned. They were going on one of the biggest supply runs they had ever been on, and they weren’t taking the tunnels either.

The list of supplies they had to gather was double the usual amount, and they had each brought an extra bag for all of it. The unusually long list also meant that they would have to go all over the city to find everything they needed. 

Once they were out of the house, they started towards the old supermarket. The two were hoping to find canned goods, water bottles, soap, or first aid necessities there. Once they arrived and got inside, Élodie checked the shelves. Marianne went straight into the back room. 

It was surprising just how much could be found in the backroom of a store that looked completely looted. There were crates of all sorts of things, but most of them were empty at this point. Due to the years of constant looting without any hope of restocking, supplies were running thin all over the city. Despite this, they were able to cross a few things off of their list before running to the next shop.

They ventured further into the city’s center than they ever had before, sprinting from store to store through the crumbling streets, shooting afflicted as they went. They didn’t even bother to stop for a break until passing a very brightly decorated bar. The decorations still were holding up despite the years of sun bleaching and neglect.

“Hey, Élodie, I got something for you!” Marianne held up an orange, pink, and white flag she had just snagged from over the bar.

“What country is that from?”

Marianne scrunched up the fabric. “It’s not a country’s flag. It's a flag for you! For girls that like other girls.”

“Really? Why would they need a flag for that?” Élodie asked, Marianne already taking it and shoving it in her bag.

“I don’t know. I just remember my dad telling us about it when Camille said he liked guys. Apparently, before the outbreak, they would have parties and parades just for people like us, and they had all sorts of flags. One for every kind of person imaginable, my dad even drew a few out for us to look at and I always remembered what this one meant. When we first started dating, I wanted to get you one. I had forgotten about it until I saw it.”

“Do you know any other flags?” Élodie looked up at the banners of color as the breeze tousled them.

“Which ones do you want to know?”

“All of them, any of them that you can remember.”

“Well,” she said, pointing to a rainbow-striped one. “I know that one is for everyone to use that like us, and that one over there,” she moved her finger to a pink, purple, and blue flag, “is for people Camille. Bisexuals.”

“What about that one?” Élodie asked about one in pastel blue, pink, and white.

“I think that’s for people who are trans, like my father, Sabrine, and Fabien.”

“They’re very pretty. So colorful, even now. Filled with joy for a time that no longer exists.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

Élodie raised her hand to ask another question when a piercing scream shot through the air and echoed down the street.

“The fuck was that?” Marianne muttered. A crack of gunfire followed.

“It came from this way.” Élodie was already off, crouched behind a car, Marianne close on her tail. 

More screams followed by more gunshots as they shuffled closer and then, _laughter_? 

“The hell d’you think is going on over there?” Élodie said under her breath, readying her bow.

Marianne cocked her gun. “No fucking clue.”

As they got closer, things didn’t get much clearer. From their position behind an abandoned car, they could only see a cluster of people in leather jackets despite the heat, each one with a dripping ‘V’ in red on the back. The source of the screaming must have been coming from the center of the group.

“Parisian Unification Fighters?”

Élodie nodded. “Yeah, or some other group like them.”

“Yeah, probably.” Marianne shrugged. “How do you wanna do this?”

“Stay low. I’ll try to work my way around to the other side. I’ll signal you when I’m ready. Try to find something to distract them with. And don't shoot them unless you have to.”

Marianne squeezed her hand and kissed her. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” and with that, she was gone.

As Élodie made her way around the group, Marianne tried to discern just what they were going up against. From the looks of things, it was about 5 or 6 armed “soldiers” versus just the two of them, but Élodie was smart. Marianne trusted her, though, she had to.

A hand shot up into the air. The signal. Marianne crawled inside a truck, nearly shut the door behind her, stuck the business end of her rifle out, and shot. She prayed that all the shots wouldn’t alert any afflicted nearby. That would be the last thing she needed right now.

“What was that?” she heard one of the leather jackets say.

“Yasmine, Gustav, Pierre, go see what that was. I’ll stay here with Laurace to deal with her.”

 _Her?_ Marianne didn’t have time to think about it. She hastily closed the door behind her and wormed her way up to the front of the giant machine. She peered over the dashboard, seeing that only two people left to fight and their subject of torment. 

A little girl, no more than 8, with blood splattered all over her face and in her bright blonde hair. She was holding her chest so tightly that it made Marianne pray she would be alright.

Élodie must have seen her too, because as soon as the group was out of sight an arrow flew through the air, hitting one of them in the thigh. Not fatal, but not easy to fight on either. 

Marianne took this as her cue, jumping through the broken windshield to take advantage of the pair’s panic to make her move.

“Don't. Fucking. Scream.” She held up her gun at the one trying to pull out the arrow from the other's leg. “And if either of you move, I’ll shoot.” They looked at her blankly. “Do you understand?”

They nodded.

“Okay, good. So here’s the deal, you let her go right now, and I don't kill you, got it?”

They nodded again.

“I don’t want you playing any tricks either, so when your little buddies come back, we were never here. Understood?”

Once again, they nodded. Marianne dropped her weapon, and the one with the arrow in his leg screamed.

“Ambush!”

“Goddamn it!” Marianne hissed, swinging the butt of her gun against his head. She kicked the other in the face and ran to the little girl, not bothering to ask her permission before scooping her up.

The girl cried as she was picked up, but Marianne couldn’t care about hurting her further right then. Anything she did could hopefully be undone by François or Madeleine. She bolted to shelter.

“Where are you hurt?” Marianne set her down behind a wall of a dilapidated building.

“They killed it,” was all she said. 

“Killed what?”

The girl loosened her grip on her chest to show what was once probably a bird.

“Oh, thank fucking God! Okay, stay here and don’t move. We’ll be back soon.”

Marianne ran right back into the fray before she could answer. An arrow whizzed past her, nailing one of the fighters in the shoulder. He turned to pull it out, but she gave him a right hook, knocking him out cold. Marianne expected the other two to start firing at her, yet nothing happened.

“I found her!”

A man she didn't recognize emerged from behind a car, with Élodie.

“No…” Marianne whispered to herself. “No.”

The man pulled her back as Élodie fought him. The more she fought, the further the man dragged her back until Marianne could see where he was taking her. A black van waited further down the street, a large vulture painted on the side. 

Élodie bit his hand and screamed “Marianne!”

“Élodie!” She was already running towards her. “Élodie!”

Thunder rumbled in the air. Bullets hailed all around her as she ran down the street. She kept running, she had to.

A bullet grazed her arm and she hissed with pain. It only delayed her a second, but a second was all they needed. Élodie was loaded into the back of the van, screaming.

“Marianne!”

“Élodie!” she kept screaming. She kept running. Bullets kept falling. “Élodie!”

“Mari--” Élodie was cut off by the slamming doors of the van. It started, but Marianne didn’t stop. 

“Élodie!” she cried. She ran, but it was too late. The van outran her easily, leaving Marianne behind. “Élodie…”

It was no use to run anymore. They had her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thunderstorms are the worst. 
> 
> (Sidenote: Eunie is younger than she would be in canon if anyone's confused.)
> 
> Edit: Eunie is Eloise's new name

Marianne stared up at the ceiling. Every second of what had happened that day played over and over in her mind. Where she fucked up, and where she hesitated only for a second. Where she let her go. 

Lightning flashed outside her window. It had been raining since before she got back, drenched, fuming, and all alone save for a little girl called Eunie.

She had given François quite a scare when she returned, not saying a word to him as she passed. She hadn’t said a word to anyone since she had returned, letting Madeleine and François tend to their wounds in total silence. When they were all patched up, Jeanne offered them both new clothes in the same manner. She must have assumed Élodie was dead, they all must have.

The thought made Marianne sick, and she tried not to think about the possibility of Élodie being dead. Élodie being dead, alone. Élodie being dead, alone, God knows where with people that tormented little girls for fun without remorse. She couldn’t bring herself to think of Élodie dying that way, not her Élodie.

The sound of knocking, muffled from the rain, brought her back from her thoughts. Marianne looked outside the window but didn't see anything there. She sighed, heaving herself out of bed, expecting to find François, Camille, or even Théo outside to console her.

She swung open the door, finding a child on the other side. At first, she thought it was one of the twins or Claudine, but as she looked closer she realized who it was.

“Eunie?”

The girl nodded. Her shoulders shook, her hair was damp, and it was clear she’d been crying at some point. 

Marianne assured her in and shut the door behind her, fumbling her way through the dark to find the candle on her dresser. Once the candle was lit, she set to work drying off Eunie. 

“Hey, here” Marianne handed her a towel. “Dry yourself off a bit.”

“Thanks.” Eunie wrapped herself in the towel, not really doing much for herself.

Marianne did her best to keep from laughing. “Not like that. Here, can I help you with that?”

She stepped forward into the room silently and she didn’t protest as Marianne rubbed the towel over her head to dry off her hair.

“There,” she smiled, rewrapping her up in the towel. “Now, what’s wrong, if you don't mind me asking?”

“The thunder is…“ 

Another crack of thunder rumbled, making Eunie shrink.

“Hey, it's okay. I used to get scared of thunderstorms too.” Marianne offered her arms to her, and she tentatively accepted. 

Eunie started to cry again. “It's not just the storm,” she managed through her tears.

Marianne did her best to comfort her “Oh… can you tell me what it is then? You don't have to though if you don’t want to.”

Eunie took in a shuddering breath. “I promised my mom that I would be brave for her, but being scared of the rain isn’t-- isn’t very brave.”

Marianne did not need to ask why she was so upset over this. She had found her all by herself, in the middle of one of the deadliest cities in the world. Nor had she ever asked to be returned home when Marianne had found her. It wasn't hard to guess what had happened. 

“You promised your mother that you would be brave?”

Eunie nodded. “I said that I would be brave for her,” she said. “But I-- I got scared and went looking for someone.”

“You went out into the storm all by yourself. That seems rather brave.”

“No. If I were really brave, I would have stayed asleep.”

“Eunie,” Marianne loosened her grip on her to get a better look at her face. “Bravery isn’t just not being scared. It's being scared and facing it anyway. So, to me, you are very brave.

Eunie didn't say anything after that, opting to let Marianne hold her close as she dared. For a while, they stayed there on the floor, unsure if they wanted to stay together, but certain they did not want to be alone. The only sounds they heard were the distant rumbles of dying thunder.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Eunie finally asked.

The question brought Marianne back to her childhood when she was only 7. François had come down with a terrible fever that fall, and everyone was sure he was going to die, even her. One of those nights, Marianne had woken up from a nightmare, convinced that François had already passed, and came crying to her parents’ bedroom. That night Enjolras had comforted her, signing her _La Carmagnole_ until she fell asleep. It was the only time she had felt anything resembling love from him before he passed.

How on Earth could she refuse Eunie now?

“Yes,” she said, at last, wondering to herself just how long Eunie had waited for an answer. “Let me get you something dry first.”

Marianne set to finding her a new nightgown to sleep in and had decided on an old t-shirt that would be rather oversized on Eunie. She was about to give it to her, but then she thought about Élodie. And that if she were there, she would want to help. 

She rummaged through her drawers and picked one of Élodie’s nightgowns that would hopefully fit Eunie somewhat decently. 

“Will you tell me a story?” she whispered, once they had settled under the covers.

For a moment, Marianne debated singing her _La Carmingol_ , but she decided on something of her own.

“Once upon a time,” she began, “in a land far, far away, there was a brother and a sister. They were the prince and princess of the land, and they lived happily together with their father, the king. Until one day, their father suddenly died, and the prince let his true colors show to the princess in his absence. 

“He was angry at her, for he thought that she had stolen all of their father’s love from him and that he would make her the ruler of the land when she was old enough and not the prince, who was now king. To be sure she would never be queen, he controlled everything she did for every day after the king’s death. She wasn't allowed to go outside when she wanted to, or read the books she liked, or even pick her own clothing.”

“The prince sounds mean,” Eunie piped up.

“Yes, he was very mean.” Marianne cleared her throat, getting back into the story. “A long time passed, and the young king married a beautiful woman, known to all for her beauty and wit. 

“To anyone else in the kingdom, they would have seemed very happy together, but they were not. The young king was just as cruel and unkind to his new queen as he was to his sister. So cruel, that she and the princess hatched a daring escape plan together. 

“While the king was away at a ball without them, the queen would put on a knight’s armor and take the princess as far away from the king as she could. But, when the time came, the young king came back to get something he had forgotten, and caught them.”

Eunie looked up at her with eyes as big as saucers.

“Luckily, he did not recognize the queen, and she took advantage of her disguise. She ordered the king to his knees with her sword!”

Eunie gasped.

“The princess ran to get help, explaining the king’s treatment of the two women as she went. So, when the guards came, they threw the king into the dungeon.

“After that, the princess became the second queen of the land. The two ruled the kingdom together for the rest of their days, and they all lived happily ever after. The end.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if y'all thought i was gonna keep francois alive and not write a chapter with him in it, you were wrong.

Théo couldn’t sleep, not after what had happened earlier that day. In truth, he'd needed to do this for quite some time, so he decided tonight he was going to get it over with. He just hoped that François would still be awake as well. 

Jeanne stirred slightly beside him as he tried to rise from their bed, but thankfully she did not wake. She didn’t need to be there for this, she already knew everything anyway. 

The thunderstorm that had rolled in earlier that night had died down into a faint drizzle, but Théo brought his rain jacket with him just in case. As he left, he slowly latched the door behind him. 

As he approached his brother’s room, he could see a dim candle from behind the curtains. At least he wouldn’t be waking him up for his.

He reached the door and knocked.

Théo stood perfectly still as he waited, not even flinching as François’s door squeaked on its hinges when it opened.

“Théo, it's past 3 am, what the fuck do you want?” François spat.

“Just sit down and I'll show you,” Théo replied as he pushed past him to go inside.

François huffed as he did as he was told, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. “Alright, I'm sitting down. What is it?”

“This,” Théo pushed up his sleeve. There was a bite mark on his forearm.

François’s mouth went dry. “You got bit?” He stood to take a better look. 

Upon closer inspection, the mark didn't look fresh at all, and if he didn't know any better, François would have thought it to be almost fully healed. Of course, that was impossible, he knew it. Infection set in within 72 hours of exposure at most. There was no time for a bite to heal that well.

“Does Jeanne know?”

“Yes,” Théo nodded.

“And you don’t want her with you?”

Théo looked back at him, brows furrowed. “Why would she be with me now if she already knows?”

“I just… thought you might want her with you, but it’s your choice.” François hesitated before pulling out his handgun from a nearby drawer, “We should go outside for this… are you sure you don’t want Fabien to do this? He’s a much better shot than I am.”

“Fabien doesn’t need to know anything abou--” Théo’s eyes finally found the gun, “Wait! Fuck! No! François, dude, Jesus Christ! Put the gun down, bro! I’m not asking you to kill me!” Théo showed his bite mark again. “This happened weeks ago.”

“What?” François looked him up and down in disbelief. “You better not be fucking with me.”

“Why the hell would I come here at 3 am, after everything that happened earlier, to try and fuck with you? Especially about something like this. I know I’ve got a reputation for pulling some shit, but does that really sound like me to you?”

“No,” he shook his head and lowered the gun, “No, it doesn’t.” François sat down again. “How long ago did you say you got bit, again?”

“Two weeks ago. The day that I came home and cut myself fighting some afflicted.”

“You didn’t actually cut yourself then, did you?”

“No, I did. I just didn't notice that one got me until Jeanne cleaned me up.”

“And that’s when she found out.”

“Yup…” Théo pulled his sleeve down. “I didn't expect to live through it. Jeanne and I agreed that we wouldn't tell anyone until I was gone and that when the time came… she would give me a shit ton of sleeping meds and be done with it.”

François looked up into his eyes. “Why didn’t you tell anyone else?”

“I didn't want you guys lining up to kill me, okay. If I would have told you then, you all would have offered to shoot me right there, like you just did. I didn't want to go that way, that's all. And, now that I know better, I would have died for nothing.”

“Well, I guess that’s fair…” François looked down at the floor. ”But why are you telling me at all?”

“You’re smart, I bet you can figure it out.”

“I--,” his mouth went dry again. “I can’t cure this if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Why not? You’re one of the smartest people I know.”

“Because you can’t cure a virus, first of all. And because I’m not a real doctor. Because I don't even have the right equipment, and I don't know any more about this thing than you do! Even if I did have everything I needed, the people that were working on it couldn't do it. Why the hell would I be able to instead of them.”

“But all those other guys didn't have me, though. They couldn’t get a sample that was good enough to really try. Isn't the fact that I can’t die from this worth something?”

François shook his head. “No, no one has ever made a vaccine based off of someone who's immune before. And we don’t even have the means to find out why you can fight this thing. If I even could somehow make one, which I can’t, I would need a sample of… the… virus…” François looked back at Théo. “YOU CAN COLLECT SAMPLES!”

“What?”

“You can collect samples without any risk to yourself! You can go out and bring back samples of the live virus, and I can figure out some way to hinder it so it doesn’t turn the recipient, and boom, vaccine!”

“And by samples, you mean…?”

“Body parts, slain afflicted, anything that could carry the virus, really.”

“So you want me to bring you back dead bodies?”

“Afflicted dead bodies, yeah.”

“Does this mean you’re doing this, then?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“I think so, I’ll try, at least. I'm sure I could get Combeferre and Claudel to help me out with it since they have a better idea of how to actually do this sort of thing. And Madeleine, too she’d love working on this.”

Théo pulled his brother into a hug. “Thank you so much, François. Thank you.”

“Théo, I-- I can’t guarantee anything. You know that right?” François pulled away.

Théo nodded. 

“And even if we do manage to pull something off, there will be no real way to tell just how effective it is, or how it will take.”

“How long do you think?”

“With the best facilities and equipment as well as proper testing, well over a year. With the stuff, we’re working with, probably never.”

“But you’re still going to try, right?”

“Yes,” François nodded affirmatively. “We still have to try.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Manon and Henri get their own chapter because I love them.

Henri could not remember the last time he saw the sun. As far as he was concerned, the sun didn’t even exist. It didn’t need to. The moon and flashlights were used for light. He couldn’t imagine what more could the sun do that a flashlight couldn’t.

So, no, Henri didn’t know what the sun was, but no one has ever missed something they didn’t remember.

“I think we need to go up tonight,” Manon said to him as she packed away the last of their campsite.

“Really?”

Manon nodded. “We’re running out of batteries and water bottles. Now, c’mon, we can’t go up until we’ve gotten to the right station.

“Can I get a new toy?”

“…We’ll see what’s around. If you can find something you like, you can take it.”

Manon waved her flashlight in front of her and jumped out of the abandoned train car they had spent the night in. Henri took her free hand as he did the same. His other hand was occupied with holding his own flashlight, which used to be Manon’s before it broke, and was rendered a child’s toy.

“What kind of toy do you think I’ll find tonight? I hope it’s another teddy bear. My old teddy bear needs a friend. Or maybe it will be a toy car! I still miss the last toy car I lost.”

“Don’t get your hopes up too high, yet. We don't even know if there will be toys where we’re going.”

“Fine,” Henri let out a disappointed sigh and fell silent.

Manon glanced down at her hand, still being held by the little boy at her side, and thought for the thousandth time since he had come into her care that it should have been Celeste doing this.

It should have been her doing all of this. She’d loved him so much, from the day he was born, and the fact that she couldn’t be here to see him now was the worst thing Manon had ever known. She had given everything for him, but she would never see her son grow up. He would never even get to know her.

He would never know just how much Celeste loved him, no matter how many times Manon told him, he would never know. Nor would he ever get to love her back. It was all just so utterly unfair. Even more unfair than anything else in this messed up world was that Celeste was gone. To Manon, that was the real impact of the apocalypse. 

She swallowed, blinking back the tears from her eyes so Henri wouldn’t be able to see. These were her tears only. She didn’t need to concern him with her thoughts.

They continued walking in silence for a long while. Both of them were consumed by their own thoughts or consumed by avoiding their own thoughts until they reached their destination.

“This is it,” Manon announced, setting down her duffle bag.

“Can we go up now?”

“Water break first,” Manon sighed and handed her small companion a water bottle. 

They sat down together on the lip of an old Métro stop, Henri with some assistance. Manon couldn’t tell what time it was exactly, but she guessed that it was some time after sunset. Right on schedule to avoid the last patrols making their way through the city’s streets overhead. It was near perfect timing.

“What do you think will find up there?” 

Manon shrugged. “Hopefully water bottles and batteries. Maybe some matches or a lighter if we’re lucky.”

“Oh, boring stuff.”

Manon let out a small laugh. “Survival items are not boring. They’re necessities. What would you call ‘No Boring?’”

Henri thought for a moment before speaking. “Stuff to play with. Like a train or a car, or a toy.”

“Ah, I see. What do you think I would think is fun stuff?”

Henri scrunched his face, deep in concentration. “Flashlights?”

Manon laughed. “You think I like flashlights?”

“Yeah, you always have one and lots of batteries. I think you like batteries, too.”

Manon couldn't help but laugh again. “Okay, I can see where you got that idea, but I’ll tell you what I really think is fun.”

“What is it?”

“A good book.”

“Like the ones you read to me before we go to sleep?”

“Sort of… The books I like are a bit longer than yours, and they don’t have any pictures either.”

“Those sound boring.”

“Maybe to you right now, but when you get older you might find that you like books without pictures.” 

“Do you think we’ll find any books up there?”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Manon hopped to her feet onto the platform, Henri scurrying behind her, and they started up the stairs together. 

They got to street level. The moon was bright above their heads, making the whole world look a grayish-blue. 

Manon sealed off their entrance so no afflicted would get in, and remembered when she first set one of the blockades up. She wasn’t the first to do so, and she had Celeste for help back then. The memory filled her with an odd bitter sweetness because even though those were some of the worst days infection-wise, she at least had someone to endure it with.

She pointed in the direction of the closest store, and the two of them ran to it. The door had long been busted open, so it was no problem getting inside. They made a beeline to the back room, knowing better than to try to find supplies in the front. 

The back room was dark, completely closed off to the outside. Manon pulled out her flashlight and turned in on, Henri, on her tail as she found the storage room. She pressed her ear to the door. She heard the growling of afflicted inside.

“They’re in there,” she whispered and readied her gun. “Stay behind the door, I’ll take care of it.”

Henri did as he was told, taking position behind the door as Manon opened it. 

She heard the door click closed behind her as she slid up against a pile of boxes and waited. They would come to her, it would only so long before they smelled her. 

The room was full of them. She couldn’t tell how many, but she hoped no more than five. If she was lucky, she could knock a few brains out before wasting bullets.

She took the time waiting to read some of the labels on the boxes, but they were all just codes that revealed nothing about their contents.

Then she heard it. That familiar growl right next to her. She looked up and there it was, and she sprang into action so fast it didn’t see her coming. One hard knock to the head and it collapsed, its skull only leaving a small dribble of thick blood. 

She listened for more, and in the end, there were only two more there, and no bullets were needed. Of course, she did her best to clean the scene up so Henri wouldn't have to see. He was too young to have to see the real horrors of this.

Thankfully, he was right where she had left him and had pulled out a well-loved teddy bear.

“Come on,” she said. “You wanna look through the stuff with me?”

He nodded, shoving his stuffed animal into his backpack as best he could.

The first box was full of thermometers. Not what they were looking for, but Manon took one anyway. The plastic-wrapped pallet of water bottles proved to be much more helpful, along with the shelf full of lighters and a half-empty box of pre-packaged chips. It wasn’t until she was looking for batteries or even a new flashlight that she found the slightly out-of-place box. 

“Hey, Henri!” she called, and he ran to her.

“Yeah?”

“Look what I found.” Manon handed him a box of thin books. “I’ll teach you how to read them later.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm getting back to the actual plot now

They had been tracking nearly every day for weeks. From the day after she was taken, Fabien and Marianne had been trying to find where she went. Marianne had started their search by bringing him to the exact spot where the black painted van had taken her, and they went from there. They did everything they could to look for her, mixing clearings and supply runs with tracking routes, all to find the headquarters of whoever dared fuck with them. 

And it worked. 

Fabien found it, of course. He had always been a better tracker than Marianne, so she wasn’t surprised when he told her of an old hotel with vans, all with vultures on their sides, coming and going to it. When they scoped it out together the first time, neither one of them could tell if these people had a larger base anywhere near. 

They followed the vans around for days, learned the differences between their patrol vans, and saw that all of them eventually returned to that hotel. If Élodie was still alive, she was in there.

So, that morning they had set off on the rescue mission. At least, she hoped it would be a rescue. If it wasn't, she wasn't sure what she should do. Regardless, Fabien had made it clear that if she did end up going rogue, that he would get the hell out of dodge in a second, but that he wouldn’t stop her either. 

Now, she was itching to go, she had been for hours, but Fabien had suggested a walking pace to save their energy or something, which sounded like total bullshit to her. In all her years of knowing him, he had always wanted things done quickly, which made his request sound completely ridiculous. She agreed anyway since he was a far better shot than anyone else, and not nearly as annoying as Théo was. 

“Van,” she said, and the two made their way to the closest hiding spot. A half-wall where a shop window had once been.

“Shit,” he said, already moving to crouch beside her.

They listened for the van to pass.

“You sure you’re up for this?” she asked. “It’s not too late to turn back.

Fabien laughed a little before answering. “If I wasn't up for it, I wouldn’t have come.”

Marianne chuckled too. “Fair enough.”

Fabien shifted on the ground to look over the windowsill and saw the coast was clear. “C’mon.”

She nodded, stood, and they moved on.

When they reached the corner before the headquarters, they went into the abandoned café to put on their disguises. Two leather jackets made to look like the ones Élodie’s kidnappers wore. 

Camille and Grantaire had both sacrificed their red paint for them, so the pressure to make sure this was a success was even higher.

“Ready?” Marianne asked as she pulled on a black beanie in a futile attempt to hide her hair.

“Yeah.”

They hid their bags in a cabinet under the counter and made their way to the back entrance of the hotel. 

The back entrance was unsurprisingly locked. If they wanted to get in without breaking anything, which they did, they would need to use the front entrance, and hope their disguises would be enough.

Marianne and Fabien quietly made their way back to the front of the building, taking side streets and alleys around a few blocks to appear less suspicious.

“Hey! You two!” a voice called out to them. It came from a van with a vulture painted on its side. They’d been spotted.

They turned around, there was no use in running, either the disguises worked, or they didn’t. If they were toast, then they were toast.

“What’re you guys doing walking out here?” the driver asked as she pulled the vehicle to a stop.

“We were attacked by a group of afflicted,” Marianne said, rather matter-of-factly. “The rest of our group were able to escape, but we were too far away to make it before they left.”

The driver seemed to buy it, and her eyes filled with what looked like concern. “You’re not bit, are you?”

They both shook their heads.

“Well, that’s good to hear. Go ahead an’ hop in back an’ I’ll take you the rest of the way.

“Thank you,” Fabien said.

“No problem. Always happy to help a fellow Vulture.”

_ Vultures. _ That’s what they called themselves. The two made mental note of this as they walked around the back of the van.

Marianne opened the door and thankfully found no living contents or other passengers inside, just a bunch of random supplies. She made her way to the front of the van, making herself as comfortable as possible. Fabien did the same.

“D’ya know where the rest of your squad went?” the driver asked as the van lurched forward.

“No idea” Fabien piped up. 

“They might have gone back to look for ya. Hell, they still might be out there lookin’ now.”

The two in the back looked at each other.  _ Was this really going to be that easy? _

The woman in the front seemed to be letting them in, no other questions asked. Before they fully knew if this was a trap, the van was pulling up to the gates of the Vulture headquarters. 

It stopped just outside. 

“Hey, Évelyne, how was the supply run?” asked a voice from outside the van. Neither, Fabien nor Marianne could see who it was coming from.

“Not bad at all. I even picked up a few surprises along the way.”

“Interesting. You’re clear to enter.”

The van pulled forward. They were in. 

Évelyne maneuvered the vehicle into line and put it in park. She got out and turned to open the back.

Marianne used her head to gesture to the door. Fabien nodded and they huddled out together. They were clear out of the van and joining the stream of people heading inside before Évelyne opened the back doors.

The two kept their heads low as they walked inside, each moment praying that no one would notice that they didn’t belong. They searched for any sign of where the Vultures might keep their prisoners if they kept prisoners at all.

The sound of a metal door clunking and squeaking shut caught their attention, and they turned towards it. A stairwell. Fabien and Marianne moved across the room as fast as they could without raising suspicion before slipping inside.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for missing last week, I had an unexpected lack of internet connection. Posting now to make up for it and should be back on schedule now
> 
> (Also if you missed it, Eloise is now named Eunie)

Élodie didn’t bother to look up when her cell door opened. She just stared forward, wearing away at the hem of her shirt. It was better not to flinch, not to look up, or even respond at all. It was better to stay silent and take whatever they had in store.

The guard in front of her entered the room slowly before they crouched before her. Some kind of new scare tactic. Don’t act first, and make her respond.

“Élodie?” said a familiar voice.

She looked up, and her eyes met the kindest she’d seen since she came to this awful place.

_ Marianne. _

Élodie lurched forward with all of her strength into Marianne’s arms, sending them both falling to the floor.

“It’s you,” she whispered, “It’s really you.”

“Oh fuck, I missed you,” Marianne replied, their eyes started to well with tears. 

Someone from outside cleared their throat, and her eyes met the figure of Fabien de la Fosse.

“Right,” Marianne said, starting to lift both of them up. “We need to go.”

Élodie felt suddenly dizzy, nearly tipping over into Marianne’s arms.

“You okay?”

Élodie just looked at her, dazed, but that was answer enough. Marianne turned her head to look at Fabien as if he would have all the answers.

“Well, so much for a discreet exit,” he grumbled.

Marianne whipped back to Élodie. “Do you think you can walk if I hold you up?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Marianne readjusted herself to fit her arm under her. Fabien moved towards the pair, pressing a handgun into Élodie’s hand. 

“Just in case,” he said, and they walked out of her makeshift cell. 

Fabien took the lead as they made their way down the corridors to make sure that they weren’t being ambushed. Marianne had her head turned around, keeping an eye on their backs for followers. All Élodie could do was try not to trip and clutch onto Marianne’s shirt for dear life. 

The group made it to the stairs without trouble, but they were far from out of the clear. Still, they did their best to get down the stairs as quickly as possible, but Élodie could tell that she was holding them back. That’s when they heard the pounding of footsteps in the stairwell, going up to meet them.

Marianne whisked Élodie into her arms, and they started bolting down the stairs as fast as they could, trying to gain as much ground on the way down before they were attached.

“Don’t shoot unless you have a clear shot!” yelled a man below them. 

This only made Fabien and Marianne trudge down the stairs faster. Élodie clung tighter to Marianne’s neck, looking around at her surroundings aimlessly.

They kept running and made it almost halfway to the third floor when the Vultures came around the counter, blocking their exit with guns already raised. 

“Put your hands up!” screamed one of them. Fabien did so, but would not relinquish his own weapon until he was told to. 

Marianne was about to do the same, but as soon as she put Élodie down a shot rang out and part of the underside of the stairs rained down on the Vultures’ heads. 

They dropped their guns to shield their heads. The perfect escape. 

Marianne pulled her back into her arms, the three of them dodging over the Vultures and bolting further down the stairs.

“After them!”

Whenever she saw them coming up, she would shoot. Either above their heads, filling the room with dust, or at their feet. Not aiming for the chest unless one of them got too close. Occasionally a shot went off without her needing to pull the trigger.

Before she knew it, they were out of the stairs and into the front hall. The few people scattered about charged at them. Fabien went first, breaking through the brunt of the attach and out of the room, Marianne and Élodie close behind.

It seemed to Élodie that every person in the building was chasing them out of there from all of the screaming, but they stopped and fell silent as soon as they passed through the gate. It closed quickly behind them, dragging some of the blood trail on the ground with it.

She turned her head then, Marianne had stopped running too, she realized, and now she saw why.

They were surrounded by afflicted on all sides. 

She saw Fabien line up a shot and fire. Two afflicted collapsed in front of them.

He did it again. Marianne joined him in firing down the same area. They didn’t have the bullets to get all of them or the time as they closed in all around them.

A path was cleared out for just a moment. Fabien ran ahead of them, but she noticed he was moving slower now. 

More shots fired off as she was dragged through the crowd of the not-quite-living-but-not-quite-dead. One of them grabbed onto her arm as they left and her stomach turned. She shrieked with energy she didn’t know she had anymore.

They ran around the corner into what looked like an old café. Marianne put Élodie’s feet onto the ground.

“Marianne…”

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna be sick,” she said as she crumpled to the ground and emptied the little contents of her stomach onto the old tile floor.

When she sat back up, she was pulled into Marianne’s arms before she heard a retching sound across the room. She turned her head and saw that Fabien had just been sick behind the counter.

“Fabien, are you okay?” Marianne asked.

“I’m fine, the smell is just a lot. C’mon, let’s go.”

As he turned to hand Marianne her bag, she saw what was slowing him down so much and where the blood on the ground was coming from.

“Your leg.” Élodie gasped, “What happened to it?”

“One of the Vultures got me. Now let’s go, the afflicted are still coming after us.”

Marianne helped Élodie off the floor and propped her up with one arm. The two of them made it over to Fabien, Marianne pulling her backpack with Fabien’s help.

They got out of there as fast as they could, which was tortuously slow given that only one member of the group could walk properly. Marianne hastily looked for the nearest place of shelter and found an old Métro entrance. 

Marianne and Fabien fiddled with the rope and opened it, hurried inside, and closed it just as the group of afflicted chasing them got the entrance. Élodie could hear them growling as the others resealed the opening.

The group made it to the bottom of the stairs with some difficulty and were slumped down on the old platform when the flicker of a flashlight bounced on the wall. A dark figure was carrying it but it was impossible to tell who. Marianne called out to them anyway.

“Hello?”

The flashlight turned to them in response.

“Can you help us, please? One of my friends is sick and the other is hurt. Please, help us."


End file.
